


Castle Life

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castle!AU, Destiel - Freeform, I have no idea what I'm doing, M/M, prince!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is the bastard son of the king of the land, but his life changes when his mother dies and he is kicked out to the curb. After years of living with a family who isn't exactly happy that he's there, a sudden change of events happen that end with him being the new king and meeting a mysterious palace boy with strikingly green eyes that he can't seem to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> It's a little slow right now, sorry guys. I intend for smut later on, but it'll be a bit. I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing here. X.X

Once upon in a time in a foreign land, there was a kingdom. This kingdom wasn't special exactly, having a castle and a king and the people that the king ruled over were hardworking. Life was tranquil for the most part, and war never seemed to be an imminent threat. The excitement in this story, however, comes from the tale of the king's son. He was destined for greatness, and even though not everyone knew this, it will be with him where this story focuses.

Castiel was the bastard son of the king of the land, his mother was the king's mistress. Everyone sort of ignored the boy, even though he was the crown prince. The king, being unable to cope with the fact that he had made the mistake of getting his mistress pregnant, hated the boy. So he had him stowed away in the furthest part of the castle, far from where the king was.

Castiel received a great education, though his teachers were indifferent to him. Because of how everyone acted toward him, he became a very quiet boy, but he was quite brilliant. He adapted easily to the teachings, and he often read books that went far beyond what he was being taught. He enjoyed the quest for knowledge, and the urge in him to learn was quite strong.

Castiel's mother was the only one who made him feel the age that he was. She would always cook for him, and sing him to sleep at night, and hug him. In truth, she was perhaps the only one who cherished him. She taught him how to love, and how to be gentle, and all the things that truly mattered in life. She worked in the palace though, so she was busy. She tried her hardest to spend time with her only son despite it all. She was, all things considered, an excellent mother. Castiel adored her, and she was his world. He would throw everything away for her if he ever needed to.

The first eight years of his life went by like this, learning all he could and enjoying the small moments with his mother. It was a cheery and happy life for the most part. But everything was soon to change.

His mother began to grow ill. It got to the point where she could no longer go to work. She laid in bed all day, and Castiel could feel the intense waves of heat rolling off her. He stayed by her side, attending her needs as best he could. As the days spread on, she grew ever weaker. It broke Castiel's heart to see her like this. She still smiled at him though, and she would tell him stories whenever she was conscious. These stories mostly consisted of angels, as she was crazy about them. That was where Castiel had gotten his name, from an angel. He committed the stories to heart, not knowing what would happen at this point.

One day, when she was especially weak, a commotion could be heard from outside.

"Dear son, could you please go and see what's happening?" Her voice at this point was barely there, and he could not deny anything she asked of him. He went over to the only window in the room, and twitched the fabric back. He could see many people chasing around, but he couldn't see the source of their concern. The sun was dipping over the castle, setting golden hues over everything. He shook his head, and turned around to face his mother. That's when he heard it. Heavy footfalls resounded through their old home, and he stared at the door, rooted to his place. For some reason, he couldn't seem to breathe.

The door opened, and there was the man who Castiel immediately realized was his father. He had his father's black mop of hair, and some of his face shape, but there weren't too many similarities. He wore a large robe that trailed in his wake. He looked towards Castiel, and the deep-rooted hatred in his gaze was sure to haunt Castiel for the rest of his life. The king's eyes were almost completely black, and there was nothing warm about him. As his gaze left him and his eyes trailed to Castiel's mother, Castiel was amazed to see the difference. The king's gaze softened immensely, and the black eyes of hatred somehow seemed to almost radiate concern and love. Castiel shook his head, trying to dispell the dizziness that seemed to engulf him. 

"My dear sweet Sarah, look at you. Even in this condition you still seem strong-willed." A small laugh escaped the king, though it was strained.

"...Francoise, why are you here?" Somehow, though the stress her vocal chords were going through, her voice still seemed like dripping honey.

"My dear, I'm afraid you know. You don't seem to be getting any better...So I thought it best to perhaps, for the final time, say my goodbyes." At his words, such anger as Castiel had never known before flowed through him. How dare he question his mother's will to live? She will get over this, it's just a matter of time! A met gaze with his mother quited down his anger though, as she stared at him with loving and knowing eyes.

"Castiel, could you give us a moment alone? Please, dear?" Castiel was taken aback by his mother's words. He had barely left her side ever since she had become bedridden. But, alas, she asked for this. And no matter how much he wanted to stay, he couldn't say no to his mother. WIth the heavy eyes of the king on him, he made his way to his room. He was restless, and even though he tried taking his mind off things by reading, he couldn't sit still. He ended up pacing his room, and time felt like an hour for a second. He was going to go insane at this point. Worry and anger bubbled up inside him, and with each step he took it never subsided.

Finally, even though Castiel could not determine how much time had actually passed, the king left. He didn't even glance at Castiel as he took his leave. He didn't care at that point though. He immedietely rushed to his mother's side. She looked up at him, and Castiel was taken aback. He had never seen his mother sad before, ever. But this look, it made him feel like crawling into a ball in the corner and sobbing for hours. Such blatant pain and heartbreak was obvious in his mother's eyes. He leaned over and hugged her tight against him. 

"I love you, mother." A soft sigh escaped his mother's lips.

"I love you too Castiel. I love you more than anything. You are my little boy. My little, blessed angel."

When he pulled back, his mother had slipped into a sleep. Castiel just knelt beside her, holding her hand. He rested his head on the bed next to her, and didn't notice when the stare he was giving her beautiful face slipped into unconsciousness.

When he woke up, he was stiff, and immedietely he felt panicked. Something was off, he knew it. He opened his eyes and they roamed over his mother. There was an absence of something, but what? He reached out and stroked her face, but after a moment, he hesitated. Silence. The room was silent. That's what was wrong. Grief immedietely overcame him as he realised what this meant. His mother was no longer breathing, her heart no longer beating, and she was no longer only dreaming.


	2. Life Without Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life after his mother's death. Castiel is depressed, and becoming reclusive. And now, suddenly, changes are thrust upon him.

The funeral was a pyre, and a few of the castle staff attended. The king coincidentally was not on the castle grounds, but Castiel felt happier that he wasn't there. He didn't need that heated glare on him while he watched the remnants of the only person in his life who truly loved him burn. He did not sob or openly cry, the only thing that gave away his utter sadness were the silent tears that slid down his cheeks without notice. He watched the fire until there was nothing left. He sat there, until some one was kind enough to usher him inside his own house. He somehow made his way to his mother's bed, and he slid into the sheets. He inhaled her smell and this was when he openly sobbed. He cried with everything he had, and when he was finished all he could do was stare. He stared at the ceiling for an eternity, it seemed like.

He laid there for days, longing for the mother who he knew would never come back. He had gone numb, and the only thing he ever felt currently was sadness. The world didn't exist to him. Just him and this room. Just him, this room, his sadness, and the memories of his mother.

\--------  
After a few days of this, a knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. He sluggishly got to his feet. He opened the door to find a young man with shoulder-length light brown hair staring at him. His golden eyes glanced coldly over him.

"Pack your things." 

"...Excuse me?" Castiel couldn't believe what he had heard.

"Since his mistress died and his wife is pregnant, the king no longer has any need for you. He's kicking you out of the castle. And, quite unfortunately on our part, placing you under me and my family's care. We live in the town. So, like I said, pack your bags. We leave as soon as you're ready."

Castiel, dumbfounded, seemed to work only mechanically. He went to his own room, putting away any clothes he had in any bags he could find. He brought along as many books as he owned, and it was then that he realised that he hadn't much of anything. He didn't have any actual personal possessions, or even anything to remind him of his mother. With a deep-rooted sadness and regret in his soul, he moved on without any will. He followed this man to some horses out front. He threw his legs over and lifted himself up. He wasn't aware of any of his surroundings, trying desperately to focus on nothing. There was something just outside of his vision, and a strange urge in his stomach for him to look over a certain way. He ignored it best he could and just rode, following the boy in front of him.

\---------

Around ten years had passed since he was that young, innocent boy who had lost his mother. He had now become a very reclusive person, staying mostly in his room, continuing the education he had started as a boy. It seems the king, even after evicting him, still was advised to keep his only son educated. The actual wife of the king, the one who had been pregnant, gave birth to Castiel's half-sister. Her name is Jennifer, and Castiel has never even been allowed to meet her. From the small glimpses he's gotten of the little girl during parades, she's beautiful. She has curly golden hair that hangs down her shoulders, and she always has a smile plastered on her face. If Castiel could feel anything, he might feel relief to know she's got a great life, one he never experienced. But that wasn't him, not anymore. 

The young man who had come that day was named Gabriel, and him and his brother Michael and his father were the designated family the king set him with. The family didn't welcome Castiel, but they weren't especially cruel. They all sort of ignored Castiel, and Castiel ignored them. He was cut a very small allowance that he only ever spent on books and clothes when needed, but other than that, his life was constantly the lives of others. He read as many books as he could get his hands on. Even if the books were about the etiquette of shopping for dresses, he did all he could to get his mind off his own life. The loss of his mother left a gaping hole in him, and he wasn't sure if he would ever feel whole again.

One day, when the swallows flew overhead and he dared to venture outside to watch the sun rise in his restless state, he heard the gallop of horses. It wasn't entirely uncommon, but on the brinks of the city where he lived, it was rare. He looked over towards the west, where the sound was coming from. He saw three men on horses coming towards his house. He wondered idly what was going on, but determind that it didn't affect him, so he went inside and made some tea.

As he sat down with his drink in hand, he heard the hooves stop, eerily close. He cocked his head, trying to think of something of interest in the area, when there was a knock on the door. He immedietely froze, everything inside of him turning ice cold. He set his drink down on the small side table, and stood up. He carefully, slowly, made his way to the door. He was a man now, of age, and any business from people on horses could not be a good thing. He took a deep breath, tried to force down the sudden panic inside of him, and wrenched the door open.

A man with short cut brown hair smiled at him. He was flanked by two other men, both looking quite average but they were slightly taller than the man in front, as the man in front was a bit short. Castiel inhaled deeply, attempting to even out his breathing.

"Hello, Cassie. It's been quite a while. How are ya?" His eyes flashed with something akin to adoration, a look Castiel hadn't seen on someone in quite a while. He paused for a second, coming up with a blank when he tried to remember a man. He hadn't even heard anyone call him Cassie before.

"Who are you?" His own voice surprised him. It had been a while since he had found the need to talk, and thinking of his memories made him realise how much his voice had dropped since he was younger. He shook himself, bringing him back to the moment, and stared at the other man's face.

"Ah, straight to the point. Well, I am Balthazar. Cassie, you see, I would like to talk to you. It needs to be in private though, for I fear if certain people heard what I'm about to tell you things would go...not smoothly." Castiel could find no hint of anger or hatred in this man's gaze, just an eagerness that he couldn't understand. Not trusting his voice to speak, he simply moved out of the way and held the door open. The three men stumbled inside and sat down on the various furniture. The soft click of the door brought their attention to him as he sat down on a chair, as far away from the men as he could possibly get.

"So, here's the news: the king is dead. He never officially named Jennifer his heir, and according to law, unless declared otherwise, the firstborn is always the crown prince/princess. Plus Jennifer is only about eleven, far too young to rule. I managed to sway all of the council of advisers to give you a chance too. So, what d'ya say Cassie, want to be the king?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many chapters I'm going to post today, but my goal is to get him to meet Dean before I put this on any kind of a schedule, if that even happens. Argh. Writer feels. But well, hope you enjoyed it! Like before, feel free to comment or anything. :)


	3. Surging Forwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Balthazar's surprising visit, Castiel tries to come to terms with what he's been offered.

Castiel stared blankly at the man.

"Get out." Castiel's voice was low, and it seemed ever more threatening than Castiel thought he could be. He had a slight build, and considering he was a shut-in, he didn't get much exercise. Still, he put as much acid as he could into those two simple words.

"I...what?"

"Get.Out.Now. Especially before father finds you." Balthazar seemed thoroughly confused, and one of the men behind him chuckled. Upon a glare from both Balthazar and Castiel, he stopped.

"He doesn't seem to understand that this isn't a joke." The un-named man said. He was right, in a way. Castiel didn't believe for a second that this was actuality.

"Here, I can get my royal seal if you want. I was one of your father's advisors when I was quite a young thing, but I have stayed in the job." 

He ruffled his jacket and got a paper out. His warm hands glided past Castiel's during the exchange of the paper, and the look in Balthazar's eyes was still adoration. Castiel quickly unrolled the document, and stared. He was a man of his word, it seemed. 

Castiel slid the paper back, and sighed deeply. He felt exhausted already.

"So you mean to tell me you're honestly offering the bastard son-," he sneered the words, "the throne?"

There was a look of pity on the man's face, but he nodded.

"Jennifer and her mother are alright with this?" There was a moment of charged hesitation between the men.

"The council...made the decision without consulting them, so I haven't a clue."

"You damn well have a clue."

"Okay, so maybe I do. Moral of the story is though, will you accept the position as king?" Castiel rubbed his temple, and immediately froze as he heard a door squeak open and footfalls down the hall.  
"You have to go. Now." Castiel got up and started to try to usher the confused men out of the house, but it was too late.

"Castiel? What is this." His father hadn't spoken directly to him in years, but he would recognise that voice anywhere. 

"Father. I'm sorry, they were just leaving." The men stood, all a little confused about what to do, but Balthazar stepped forward. Castiel let out a small hiss.

Balthazar was severely short compared to father. Father whitening hair and sharp grey eyes glanced coldly down at the man. Balthazar extended his hand, but father made it obvious he was above shaking hands with the man, so Balthazar took back his hand awkwardly.

"Hello sir, we were just having a chat with--"

"Leave immedietely." Balthazar glanced at other men, obviously a little unsure of what to do.

"Sir, I'm a royal advisor and I just--"

"Leave immedietely. You with them, Castiel. Get out of my sight. You have disturbed this house for far too long, and this is the last straw. Gather your things and be gone by midnight. I shall not be back until then, and neither will Gabriel nor Michael." He turned quickly on his wheels, his overcoat swishing around him, and he went into his room. Castiel's gut seemed like it was filled with ice and lead. He had just been evicted out of his own home, yet again.

"Cassie, I'm so sorry, I--"

"Balthazar." I let his name drip with my new-forming hatred.

"...Come with us, to the castle. You'll have a place to stay, food provided, and people around you." Balthazar's gaze was earnest, and as much as Castiel wanted to deny it, it seemed like the best thing he was going to be offered.

"...How long do I have to decide about your offer?" After a moment's hesitation, he spoke up.

"We can give you a week." He steeled himself. Only a week?! He took a deep breath, and stared at the ceiling.

"Okay, I guess."


	4. His Piercing Gaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving for the castle proves to be a not pleasant experience, and once there, he meets someone that won't leave his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my new awesome friend and supporter Lilly :3

Castiel gathered his things silently, yet working in a very orderly fashion. Moving this time, he had many more books but the amount of clothing he had was about the same, as he gave the clothes that didn't fit him to some of the children next door. Balthazar leaned on the doorframe, eyes darting all over the room.

"Leave the books, Cassie. We'll send for them later today." Castiel met his steady gaze, a slight posessiveness inside him about his books, wondering if he could trust them to move them without being scathed. He sighed, as his life was messy enough as it is. He didn't have the will to fight over this, so he just breathed deeply and moved on. 

In about an hour later, they set off. Castiel awkwardly gripped on the back of Balthazar as they made their way towards the castle grounds. The rhythm of the horse didn't sit well with him, so he tried to think as less as possible while staring at the sun in the sky. He made shapes in the clouds as he forced his mind to go blank.

He, unfortunately, couldn't keep that up as the castle came into view. An uncomfortableness spread throughout his entire being, and a certain anxiety built up in his gut. He squirmed slightly in the saddle, itching to run away and hide. Oh, how he wished he could. He wanted to run away from this castle, from the memories pressing against the wall he made inside, away from all of his troubles. He was beginning to realise that he always was stuck, shackled to this place. It was in his blood, no matter how much that blood inside him boiled, angry, trying to claw its way out of him and into someone more acceptable. He forced his eyes shut, unwilling to accept anything at the moment.

The lull in the movement of the horse underneath him made him finally, reluctantly, open his eyes. He moved off the horse after Balthazar, and followed him into the stables. Balthazar led his mare into a booth, and pet her gently. Castiel turned to the approaching man, and it felt like he had taken a serious hit to his gut. All the air inside his lungs rushed out in a surprised gasp, and he stared, glued to his spot. He assumed this man was the stable boy, but that's all his mind could manage. He literally couldn't think. His eyes roamed from the white shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, admiring the muscle obvious in his forearms, to his body, down to his slightly grey cotton trousers and dark boots. Then, realising he was staring, he tried to move his head away, but he got caught on the man's face.

His slightly stubbled chin, to his perfectly-shaped lips that were slightly agape, to the wondrous curve of his nose, to the sandy-brown hair that slightly hung over his forehead, to his...How were eyes like his even possible?! They were green, greener than any forest he had read about, and greener than any pasture he had seen. They were...indescribable. And then he realised they were intently focused, and he realised they were intently focused on him. Time seemed to stand still, and Castiel could barely fathom--

"Dean, are you there yet? C'mon, I need to get this chap situated." And suddenly, with one sentence, the world came rushing back. The sharp smell of the hay mixed with the general stable smells assaulted him, the slight wooshing of the wind in the background, and what was happening hit him with as much force as when he had first seen the boy. No, first seen Dean. He forced his voice to work, willed for his brain to remember the physical function of speech.

"Hello, Dean." Instead of responding, the man came nearer and nearer to Castiel with each step. He stopped right in front of him, barely inches away, and his eyes never left Castiel's.  
"I'm right here, Balth." A sharp intake of breath on Castiel's part. His voice, oh the things he wanted to do with that voice--

"Good, good. C'mon and do your job Dean, we don't have all day." At this, Dean let out a breath that Castiel, embarassingly, made sure to breath in. A blush escaped across his cheeks then, and Dean's eyes roamed over his face one last time before he finally looked away, and went over to Balthazar and his mare. Castiel just stood there, so completely and uttely dumbfounded. He had never experienced anything like that in his entire life. He shivered suddenly, though he was far from cold. Balthazar came out, clapped a hand on his back, and led him out of the stables. He stumbled over his feet slightly, not really wanting to leave. The memory of those green eyes, and knowing the owner was just a small space away, made him want to stay in those stables for the rest of his life. He would sleep with the horses and eat oats, if it meant he could stare at those eyes again.

\-----

The rest of the day passed in a muddled blur. Balthazar showed him his way to his room in the servant's quarters for now, and then escorted him to the few places he should know. Despite growing up in the palace, he honestly didn't know anywhere in it, as he was always confined in his little place at the back of it. He tried his hardest to make note of the passageways, but whenever he wasn't forcibly required to memorize directions, his mind found it's way to the beautiful green-eyed stable hand. There was just something about that man, something about his body, something about his eyes...Castiel tried many times to shake himself, to get himself back to the present, but the failed attempts far outnumbered the successful attempts. Finally, at the end of the day, he slipped into an all but dreamless sleep, the only thing on his mind were piercing green eyes.


	5. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision must be made. The date grows closer, and the hurried life of Castiel muddles his mind. So much to do, so much to go through, and so little time to prepare for whatever answer that is stirring in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story writes itself, I swear. I can't stop writing for the moment. It comes out of thin air. Writing really is a wonder.

The one week he had to decide rushed by, and it went far too quickly. Balthazar had come the next morning, dropped his books, and then whisked him away to the council to talk about matters of ruling, and if he even knew enought to start governing it as king. As it turns out, Castiel was quite good at it, though as he had dug his face in books all his life, understanding the social aspect of things wasn't the easiest thing. So, every day, he stayed in the council chamber being taught and also tested in so many different ways, that the only time he had to daydream about the handsome stable hand was the time from when his head fell from midair to the pillow on his mattress.

He had met the cook, an older man named Bobby, who was a bit gruff but nice enough to the quiet Castiel that he took a liking to him. He ate all his meals with Bobby, who knew who he was and what he was here for, yet never treated him any differently. It was nice, and Castiel never had met anyone else who treated him like an actual human being like this, like a normal person. He immensely enjoyed his time with Bobby, and it made his days a little less hectic and a little more bearable, the closer it drew to the endline.

\------

A knock on his door that morning, exactly a week since he came here, sent panic through his veins and his heart hammered in his chest. He quickly got up, a little too quickly as his vision swam for a moment, and attempted to make himself presentable. He threw on some clothes quickly and threw open the door.

"So Cassie, it's been a week, you ready?" Castiel sighed, a little grateful Balthazar himself had come. It comforted him slightly. During the week, he had come to understand just how much Balthazar had been sticking his neck out for him, a man he's never even met, and just how much it could go wrongly for Balthazar. It weighed on his conscious, and definitely affected his decision. He looked up at the warm brown eyes, staring adoringly at him as always, and a small yet surprising smile made its way to his lips.

"Not exactly, but I'll wing it." He had learned some humor from Balthazar during that week, and it made the older man chuckle. 

"Well well, you don't nearly have as much of a stick up your ass as the first time we met. C'mon, kiddo, let's go." Despite not knowing anything, not knowing what Castiel was thinking, what his answer was, this man was still so kind to him. Balthazar smiled at him, and took the first steps down the hallway. Castiel followed, a warm feeling spreading through his body, and seeming to pool in his cheeks.

\-----

"So Castiel, bastard son of the late king Francoise, what is your decision? Will you accept the crown, or won't you?" Castiel glanced around the room, and swallowed thickly. The council was all seated around him, the men now a little familiar to him. It was the two people at the back, the women, that made him a complete mess of nerves on the inside. A strong-faced woman who was incredibly beautiful stood, a cream dress pooling around her, with her arms around a young daughter. The smaller child, he realised, was his half-sister. She stared at him, caramel-colored eyes boring a hole in his self. She didn't seem to portray any particular emotion besides curiosity, but her eyes were as strong as her mother's. He weakly tried to find his voice.

"I, Castiel Francoisesson, accept the title of king of this land." A loud cheer erupted from a man at the table, and Castiel was not surprised to see Balthazar blushing and attempting to sit down. He chuckled lightly, smiling at the man as he caught his gaze. Such appreciation and acceptance was in the man's eyes, and the warm feeling from earlier creeped back up into Castiel.

"What will you do with us?" The woman spoke out, clear among the murmurs coming from the council. Castiel caught her glare, but didn't back down. He had thought of this, ever since he had the thought of acceptance in his mind. He stepped forward, and made his way to the woman, whose name he hadn't ever even cared to learn. Her hand on her daughter tightened visibly, but that was all indication she gave of whatever she was feeling inside. He knelt down, and made eye contact with Jennifer.

"Jennifer, do you know that I'm technically your brother?" She stared up at her mother for a second, hesitant, but met his gaze.

"Yes, I know. I didn't know until Momma told me yesterday though." She held out a tentative hand to him, and he took it in his clasp, careful to stop his shaking just for this moment, and chastely pressed his lips to her hand.

"Would you be okay with playing with me someday, Jen?" Her eyes lit up a little, and that smile that Castiel, despite feeling nothing, had made sure to memorize, spread across her face. She was full on grinning, and she giggled even. The purity of the sound, the blaring joy that radiated from her expression, he knew he needed her to be in his life. He knew he needed to be around while she was growing up. He knew he needed her, probably a lot more than she needed him.

"Of course! Well, if Momma says it's okay. I always wanted a brother, you know. Is it, okay Momma? Please, Momma?" They both looked expectantly at her mother then, and Castiel would never forget the look of relief on her face and the slight tint of red to her eyes.

"If she wants to, then I'm sure we could work something out." He smiled then, actually smiled to the point where he could feel it touching his eyes, and it was the first time since his mother was alive that he had done so.

"Of course, you two will still have a place in the castle. Not as luxurious as you're used to most likely, but there's no doubt in my mind that you two will have a place here." At that, tears fell from the mother's eyes. She motioned for Castiel to stand up, and he did so. She pulled him into an embrace, such a foreign sign of affection for him it took him a moment to comprehend, before he lightly put his hands on her back.

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank you for keeping us, for not kicking us out or worse. I feared so much today, and I'm just...You are kind, Castiel. I'm sorry I never tried to get to know you before...I apologise."

"It's in the past now." He pulled back, got a surprise mini-hug from Jennifer, and then ushered them both off to relax. He turned back to the council, more prepared to become king than he was when he walked into the room.


	6. The Ocean Tugs Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean was never one to pay attention, but ever since that one fated day at the stables, his mind has been haywire. A black mop of hair and the ocean of his eyes are the only things his mind will let him think of as of late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the whole serf concept, I just imagined that anyone born on castle grounds has to ask permission to leave.

Messy black hair, innocent blue eyes, and pink chapped lips were all his mind thought about when he was unconscious. The burning sensation of his lips stayed on his body long after he woke, the feeling of thin hair pressed against his face tickled him whenever he thought about it, and the blue eyes drowned him, over and over. He would throw himself into the ocean they portayed, if he could.  
Every morning, whenever he woke he felt like he was being dragged up from the depths of the ocean. Air gasped into his lungs and his eyes sprang open, a feeling of being dragged up always just settling down into his spine. He shivered, and again felt the burning sensation of lips over his skin. He scratched hard, trying to kill the feeling. He threw on a rough wool sweater, even though it was warm outside, to see if the scratchiness would satiate it. He shimmied into slacks and pushed his hair down into something acceptable. He could smell food from the kitchen, and sleepily pushed his feet toward the door and down the hall. His mother stood, a warm batch of grub on the table. She smiled widely at him as he came into view, her blonde locks bouncing around her happy face. He would never give up the sight of her cooking and humming happily. He would make sure to remember it for the rest of his life.

"Dean love, could you wake Sam up?" Her voice chimed.

"Mom, too late, I'm up. Who would ever think to choose sleep over the delicious smells you elicit?" Their mom laughed, brightening up the whole kitchen. The two brothers sat down, utterly content to just watch their mother be happy.

"So boys, how did you sleep?" Dean grunted, unwilling to talk about the dreams he has had ever since he met that man in the stables. He hadn't been able to figure out who it was either, and the burning urge to find out who he was itched him as badly as the rough sweater.

"Pretty good mom. Oh, hey did you hear? About the king?" Sam inquired around a mouthful of food. Their mother made clucking noises.

"Of course I have! You've heard, right Dean?" Dean, realising he had no clue what they were talking about, shook his head.

"What?! Apparently the old king had a son with a mistress, and they brought him back! His coronation will be in private next week, but he's already acting as king. They say he's kind yet stern, and a real looker. Not many have actually laid eyes on him yet though." She winked, ending her rush of words. Excitement still traced her features.

"Is that so? Hmm..." Dean didn't really care. His place was in the stables, grooming the horses, prepping and unprepping them whenever someone wanted to leave the property. That was his life, and besides his family, he didn't do much else. Yeah, he was a flirt with the castle maids, but other than that, what else was there to do around the place? Well, make that past tense. He was a flirt. But ever since that man, ever since those dreams...no one else besides horses were able of capturing his attention. 

"So...I wanted to talk to you guys about something." Dean perked up when Sam's tone deepened. His mother looked at Dean quizzically before turning back to Sam.  
"What's up Sammy?" Dean asked, paying attention for the first time in days.

"I want...I want to leave. The castle, I mean. I want an apprenticeship, and a real education, and you can't find that here. I heard this new king was nice, like mom said, so I was thinking...of asking permission to leave."

"No." Dean said sternly. 

"Dean, I can't stay here my wh--"

"I'll ask him, for you."

"...Why?"

"Because, just in case he isn't as kind as they make him out to be. I'd rather me get hurt than you." And, he thought to himself, that if he could say out loud that Sammy wanted to leave he could finally admit it to himself. The hurt and betrayal that threatened to push up, he immedietely pressed down. Not here, not now.

"Dean, I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"Shut up Sammy. I'm doing this." He glared at Sam, daring him to object any further. Sam put his hands up, sighed deeply, and went to go help with the dishes.

\------

So that is how, stable hand Dean Winchester, found himself standing in front of the door to the king's study. The guards had let him through to this far, so he had to pull through. He had to finish this. For Sammy's sake. He let out a shaky breath, and his fist lightly rasped on the old oak doors.

"Come in." A muffled, rough voice came through the doors. He shivered, and pulled open the wide doors. The faint smell of old paper and stagnant air swept over him as he took a hesitant step inside. A smell like watermelon and honey whiffed past him with a gust of air from an open window, and he gasped as he saw who the source was. There, hunched over some document, was a black mop of hair. The ocean pulled him under as the unfathomable eyes took in his character.


	7. The Man I Could Not Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel again meets the stable hand, as Dean asks for permission for his brother to leave the castle grounds.

Green eyes. There were those damn green eyes, staring back at him. The eyes he had all but forgotten, but had plagued his dreams every night. The green eyes that expressed so much and yet so little. Those green eyes.

A small gasp escaped him, and he immedietely stood up. He made his way around the desk, and just sort of stood there, staring at the man who he was not able to forget.

"M..May I help you?" Castiel's voice broke, embarassingly. He was the king, yet this mere stable hand made him tremble ever so slightly, and had his nerves on end. The man cleared his throat, his eyes seeming to refocus, and he looked away from Castiel.

"Y-you're the king?" Castiel breathed out, and willed his body to relax against the desk. Instead he stood up straighter than a rod and shakily laughed.

"Yes, technically. In a way, I suppose. What is it...that you need?"

"Oh...Um..Yeah..My uh, brother, Sammy, wants to go off the property and become an apprentice of some kind. So, I decided to ask your permission for him. Er, your highness." Castiel laughed, loud and booming. Something about this man, the one who had so much hold over him, calling him his highness was just so utterly ridiculous that he couldn't help himself.

"Please Dean, call me Castiel."

"..You sure? That doesn't feel right..." Castiel smiled, and waited until Dean's eyes once again found his.

"It will be our special secret, Dean." Castiel couldn't hide the thrill everytime he said the other man's voice. Seeing him again, feeling these things...Everything was finally so real again.

"So, uh, Cas..Cas...er, Cas." Castiel laughed again, and already he was so fond of this man. He strode forward, and gently placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean looked at him, slightly frightened, but there was an emotion swirling underneath, eminent in his eyes. 

"Along with the secret between us, I'll also be complient. Your brother is allowed to leave, Dean. In exchange, invite me over for dinner some night. Your mother is rumored to make delicious food, and I would like to meet Sam." Castiel was crazy. When in the world would he have time for this? After glancing at Dean's eyes again, he knew the answer. He would make time, no matter what. He wanted this, deep down, he truly wanted this. He wanted him, truthfully. In what ways, he wasn't freely admitting to himself yet.

"...Al-Alright." Dean's breath hitched, Castiel could feel it through the coarse sweater Dean was wearing. Suddenly, warmth spread over his hand as Dean tentatively grasped Castiel's hand with his own.

"Sir, Baltha-" The man's voice was cut off as Balthazar strode into the room.

"Hey Cassie, I--" He stopped talking to cock an eyebrow at the two. Dean caughed and carefully stepped back.

"I, uh, I should go." Castiel grabbed his wrist as he turned to leave.

"Leave an appropriate time with the head chef, Bobby. He'll tell me. See you soon, Dean." Dean nodded, blushing, and walked away quickly. Balthazar chuckled when he was out of the room, and Castiel sighed, leaning against a bookshelf.

"Got a crush, Cassie?"

"Balth, stop. I don't want this getting turned into something that would bother him, okay?"

"Oh, I would never Cassie! C'mon Cassie. You know me." Balthazar winked slowly at him, causing Castiel to sigh again.

"Why is it appropriate to call your king Cassie?"

"Because, I was the one who made you king."

"Good point, keep the nickname." Balthazar laughed.

"So, back to business." Castiel groaned. Being a king was a pain sometimes. Especially since the visit from Dean had given him a whole new sense of distractedness.

\------

"What!? He wants to have dinner with us? The king wants to eat my cooking?" Dean's mother nearly swooned, he swore.

"Yes, now shut up. For some reason I don't think he wants the whole castle knowing about it. Now, when would be a good time?"

"Dean, how are you so calm? And how did you manage to ask the king of the land to a dinner date?" Sam piqued up from his end of the table.

"Look he asked me, and I don't know, okay? So shut your cakehole Sam...When, mom?" Dean was a little aggravated, only because inside he was so excited he felt he could run until he hit the ocean. Then again, why run to the ocean when he had his own personal one--no, no wait. Cas was not his. Cas was the king. He was not his, not the stable boy's...own.

"Oh, well...I suppose tomorrow night would work. I was planning on making rabbit stew anyway. I hope he isn't expecting some fancy dinner, because sorry, king or not, that's not how I cook." Dean laughed, he knew very well where his stubbornness came from.

He whistled as he made his way to Bobby, surprised that Castiel knew the head chef. Him and Bobby had gone way back, as Bobby was like a second father to him. His anxiety about tomorrow made his step quicken though, and he found the chilly night air welcoming.

Tomorrow I dine with the king. Huh. Would you think about that.


	8. Dinner Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel makes his way over to an awkward dinner with Dean and his family.

Balthazar, ever the annoyance, burst through the doors to Castiel's bedroom.

"Rise and shine Cassie, c'mon! You have a dinner date with Mr. Dean Winchester and his family tonight." He whisked the covers off Castiel, causing him to groan. He had been up late with the man, his kingly duties coming before his need for sleep. Then it hit him.

"Wait, what?" Balthazar chuckled as he mussed Castiel's hair.

"Dean agreed to have dinner with you tonight. Says his mother is making her special rabbit stew for ya guys." Castiel was suddenly so excited that he didn't ever care that Balthazar probably made his hair look laughable. He shot straight up, narrowly missing being elbowed in the face, and grinned.

"Well, let's get started on our work then. Wouldn't want us to have a late night."

"That's the spirit, Cassie!"

\----

A new sense of dread pooled into his stomach as he looked at the door to his old house. Apparently, since they were the only whole family staying in the castle, Dean's mother had moved into the place where Castiel had moved out of. He swallowed thickly, eyes suddenly a little wet, and willed his hand to knock. He wasn't so sure he could do this, suddenly. Despite all his hard efforts today, being faced with the new prospect of walking into his old home...it frightened him beyond belief. He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself, and worked his limbs mechanically to knock.

"Your highness." A tall man who he assumed was Sam opened the door. Castiel, who wasn't exactly the shortest, felt dwarfed by the man. "Nice, um, nice hair." Castiel attempted to smooth his hand over his hair and cursed.

"Dammit, Balthazar!" Sam laughed, but stopped when he caught Castiel's eyes.

"I, um, I'm--"

"Cas!" Dean shoved Sam aside and smiled awkwardly down at the king. "Come on in. Sorry for my brother, he's as awkward as his height." Dean led the way into the house and down the hall. Castiel walked passed him though and made his own way into the kitchen, taking a sharp breath when he saw Dean's mother making dinner. She turned around quickly, and when she spotted Castiel she grinned at him.

"Your highness." She did a little curtsy and motioned for him to sit down. He was rooted to spot though, memories threatening to rush in and immobolize him. Dean, thankfully, caught up then and tugged at his elbow.

"Hey, Cas, how did you know your way around?" Dean's green eyes seemed to pull him out of his reverie then, and suddenly the ability to breathe, which he didn't know he had lost, came back to him. He forced his lips to curl slightly, and reached out to cover the man's hand at his elbow.

"Who do you think preoccupied this place before you moved in?" With that he moved to take his place at the table, and he took a deep breath. You can do this Castiel, he thought to himself.

"Dinner is ready!" Sam sat down across from him, and Dean and his mother on either side of him. They all didn't talk too much at first as they took their first few bites.

"This is delicious, Mrs. Winchester." She laughed, her voice like bells.

"Please your highness, call me Mary."

"Mary it is, then." He smiled tentatively at her, and she returned it.

"So, uh, what's it like being king?" Sam asked, as awkward as Dean had described earlier. Castiel chuckled.

"It's, well, work. Definitely isn't easy. Dealing with the council is hard enough, plus all the damn paperwork that's thrust upon you. Without my closest advisor, Balthazar, I'm not sure how I would even deal with it all. I haven't even had time to talk with Jennifer since the day I announced my will to accept the crown." Castiel was surprised at himself, he didn't usually talk this much, or this openly. He had a sneaking suspicion that a lot of it had to do with the green eyes to his left he could feel on him.

"Jennifer? As in King Francoise's daughter?" Mary asked him confused.

"Yes. She's my half-sister. Didn't you know?" Dean's utensil clattered to his plate.

"Wait...So that's why you lived here...You're the bastard son?" Castiel flinched. Hearing those words from Dean sent a stabbing pain through him.

"Dean, have some manners!" Mary chided the boy. "I'm sorry, your highness." Castiel inclined his head towards her and cleared his throat.

"Ah, it's..it's fine, Mary. But yes, that is who I am." Castiel's voice was low, and thick with emotion. An awkward silence filled the room, and Castiel was a little detached from the small chatter that Sam and Mary had decided to make to lessen the blow of what had happened. When dinner ended, Mary stood up.

"Dean, show the king around the house, okay? Show him what we've done with the place." She smiled politely at him as she and Sam picked up the dishes. Castiel's ears rung slightly, and he looked at Dean for the first time since he had spoken last. Dean's eyes were very obviously filled with concern as he stood up and offered his hand to Castiel. He took it, and stood up carefully. Dean seemed to notice the slight shake to him, as he squeezed lightly before letting go and leading him down the hallway. They stopped in Castiel's old room, now littered with two beds and a mess only on one side of the room. Dean closed the door before plopping down on the bed. He made sure to leave space for Castiel though, and he motioned for him to sit down. Castiel tentatively stepped over a pile of clothes and surprised himself by laughing.

"Nice bedroom, Dean. It's definitely odd seeing your old bedroom preoccupied." Dean gave him an intense look, which immedietely caused Castiel to lose the ability to speak. Dean reached out and lightly put his hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"I'm sorry for saying what I did, Cas."

"...It's fine Dean. Everyone refers to me that way, even myself. It just...caught me off guard." Dean's hand rubbed soothing circles into his shoulder. "Dean, I...can I make a request?"

"Of course Cas."

"...May I see the other room?" Dean's hand stopped, and Castiel couldn't make himself meet his eyes.

"...Isn't that where...?"

"Yes." Dean sighed, and got up. He offered his hand again to Castiel, and helped him get off the bed. When Dean started to pull away, Castiel's grip tightened. He could feel the shaking wrack his body. When he looked up at Dean, green eyes met his. His eyes seemed to communicate that he understood, and he could feel a small blush creep up his neck.

They made their way across the hall, and Castiel immediately tugged the two to the window in the corner. He stared up at the ceiling, nothing in the room having really changed, and suddenly whatever control he had over himself seemed to crumble as heavy footfalls sounded in his ears and his vision swam with black eyes full of anger and his mother's face. His knees unfolded from beneath him, and he suddenly was smacked into a hard, yet warm, surface. Castiel faintly realised he had hit Dean's chest and the man was holding him up, but all the he could manage right now was a garbled cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate making my characters sad. Like I'm so mad for making Cas cry. I just... :(


	9. Haziness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel stumbles home after the dinner, his mind filled with Dean.

"Dean." Silence had settled around them for a while now, as Castiel had finally finished crying. His voice was rough and his throat was raw, but none of that really mattered to him right now. He could hear Dean's heartbeat through his ear and he was trying to memorize the feel of the man's arms strongly around him. 

"Before we came here, when mom was still pregnant with Sammy, my dad died in a fire. I'm just saying, so you know that...that I know what it feels like." Castiel slid his arms around Dean and tried to carefully regain his footing. He squeezed lightly before letting go.

"Thank you Dean...I feel I should go." Dean looked a little lost, but he swallowed and nodded quickly. Dean walked them passed the kitchen, where Castiel politely said goodbye to Sam and Mary, and the two headed for the door. Dean closed the door behind him as he stepped out with Castiel, surprised by his actions.

"...Cas, I uh, will I see you again?" Castiel's heart fluttered, and he was suddenly nervous. An idea had been floating around in his head the whole day, but he wasn't sure if Dean would be okay with it.  
"Dean, how much are you needed as the stable hand? Is there anyone else?" Dean's face expressed shock, but Castiel was determined to get the answer.

"Yeah, there's one other guy. But why, Cas? Am I...Am I going to lose my job?" Dean's voice broke on the last word, and it made Castiel feel awful for scaring the man.

"No, Dean, but I'm offering you a better one. It will have better pay, and less hours, but it may be more of an annoyance." Dean stared down at Castiel, very confused, but any fear he had seemed to leave.

"The extra pay will be nice, help pay for Sammy leaving and getting accomodated...What, may I ask, is the job?" Castiel was a mess of nerves, and he looked away. He stared anywhere but at Dean, scared of the other man's reaction.

"Well, you see, my only personal maid, Anna, she's pregnant. So I gave her some time off to take care of herself, and some personal time with her child before she comes back. She always woke me up and took care of my bedroom cleaning. I'm so busy that my bedroom gets neglected, and Balthazar is a pain to deal with when I'm half asleep. I know it may not be your thing, and in honesty you could probably work both jobs at once if you really wanted to, but I figured asking was worth a shot." Castiel breathed out, having rushed the second half. He was so nervous. He half-turned away from Dean. "Sorry, it was foolish of me to ask, I'll leave."

"Cas, wait." Dean's large hand had gripped Castiel's wrist as he turned. Castiel forced himself to stare at Dean's green eyes, and his breath hitched. The moonlight was hitting his face in such a way, illuminating all of his features, that Castiel was completely and utterly lost for words. He could see now all the freckles that spread around Dean's nose, and he wished he could sit there and count all of them, map them out on the memory of Dean's face in his head, so he always could accurately remember Dean. "I'll do it. It's not much, and the extra money will really help out Sammy. So, when do I start?"

"I..uh, what?" Smooth, Castiel.

"I'll do it. When do you want me to start?" Castiel blushed, and Dean smiled back at him in return. Castiel swallowed, really trying his best to resist the unbearable urge to reach out and touch Dean's face. He willed his mind to work.

"Tomorrow, if you could. I need to be woken up by 7 on weekdays, and 8 on the weekends. I'll warn you ahead of time if there is a change in time needed." Castiel couldn't believe the other man had actually agreed. "Thank you, Dean." Dean grinned down at him, and the moonlight reflected off his teeth, making them almost shine. His arm shot out on its own accord, and he put his hand on the side of Dean's face. He didn't actually realise it, until Dean had cleared his throat. Castiel quickly pulled away, blushing even harder than before. "I um, I'm sorry. I must really be tired. I'll take my leave now."

With that, Castiel set out for his own room. He stumbled his way through the growing darkness, any mind capability completely lost. His thoughts weren't even comprehensible at this point, the only thing happening in his head was just flashes of Dean. He wasn't even sure how he managed to make it into his room, what with him in his Dean stupor. He fell on his bed, and he was unconscious before he could even form a coherent thought.


	10. Awake, Arise, and Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's first day as Castiel's alarm clock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't quite happy with this chapter, and I ended up extending it. Hope you enjoy.

A warm sensation travelled from Castiel's shoulders down his back. He revelled in the sensation, arching his back into the warmth. 

"Mmm..."

"Cas, hey, c'mon. I know you're slightly awake." Castiel knew the voice was familiar but was too tired to place it. "Mister oh mighty king of the land needs to get his ass out of bed." Castiel's eyes bolted open as the warmth of a breathe slid across his neck. He looked up to find Dean Winchester leaning over him, and now laughing hysterically. "Dude, your bedhead is great. Even worse than yesterday's somehow." 

"Dean? Why are you...oh, yeah." Castiel's voice sounded rough, even to him. He was also blushing profusely. Castiel sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling the crinkled clothing from last night cling to his skin. He stood up and streched, shaking his limbs.

"Man, you were right, your bedroom is neglected. And holy mother of papers." Castiel groaned.

"Dean, this amount is nothing compared to the sheer amount I go through everyday." Castiel smirked as Dean's eyes widened.

"Being king must be tough, huh?" 

"Eh, I suppose." Castiel went over and rifled through his wardrobe, finding some easy slacks and a nice sweater to fit snugly yet comfortable for the day. He immediately cast his shirt off without another thought to it, and slid the sweater over. It was in the process of sliding down his slacks that Balthazar burst into the room, reminding Castiel that Dean was there. He blushed, casting a furtive glance at Dean, who had turned around at the sound of the door. "Dammit Balthazar, will you please knock?"

"Aw Cassie, c'mon, I didn't know you had a lover! You should tell me these things. I thought we were friends." He pouted. "Plus I thought I was still expected to wake you up." Castiel sighed.

"Your duties of waking me up are relieved, Balthazar. Dean, this is Balthazar, my head advisor. Balthazar, this is Dean, my new head personal butler. Now can I please change my pants in peace?" Both of the men chuckled, but Balthazar just closed the doors and stepped right in and flopped on Castiel's bed. Not caring anymore, Castiel resumed changing.

"So the council thinks you should be coronated next week." Castiel immediately regretted the decision to throw off his balance slightly as he was so surprised that he fell on his ass. Dean rushed over to awkwardly help him up before shifting his attention elsewhere.

"And why the sudden urgency? The people know there's a man in char--"

"Castiel, it is needed. If we don't put a face to that figure then you will never gain any control or respect." Castiel groaned.

"I suppose that makes sense..."

"Cas? What's so bad with being coronated?" Balthazar let out a roar of laughter as he rolled on the bed, meanwhile Castiel tried to tuck in on himself and blushed.

"I'm afraid our mighty king is afraid of public appearances."

"Balthazar! I'm just a little shy, that's all..."

"...Did you really choose the right profession, Cas?" Castiel immediately swung his head up.

"Do you honestly think I really picked this? I had a choice, of course, but not much of one. You can't help what you're born into, Dean. I learned that lesson early on."

With that Castiel made his way out of his bedroom, and Balthazar eventually tagged along behind. Castiel sighed, willing his mind to snap into focus on to the tasks at hand, and not on those green eyes in the other room.

\----

Later in the night, when Castiel had just finally gotten into his room, Castiel heard a knock at his door. He groaned.

"Balthazar if there are some papers we forgot to do I declare you the ability to do them." A soft chuckle escaped from the other side of the door, and Castiel marched over and threw back the wood. He yawned loudly, but his eyes refocused on Dean, standing there, smiling tentatively at him. "...Dean?"

"I uh, wanted to make sure you weren't mad at me." Castiel motioned for him to come in and shut the door.

"It's fine, Dean. I know you don't really know my circumstances so in all fairness I should be the one apologizing to you." He sagged down onto his bed, fighting to keep his will to stay awake.  
"...What exactly has happened to you, Cas? I honestly don't know much about you."

"Dean, I don't know much about you either." Dean chuckled again as he slid down onto the mattress, shoulder touching Castiel's own.

"Well, you got me there."

"...I well, was raised by my mother, who was the king's mistress. She loved me and we had great times together. I was a shy boy, with my head always buried in a book, but she made me enjoy my life. I didn't care if my father hated me, because my mother was all I needed. But then she fell ill, seriously ill, and after one horrible visit from my father, she passed away in her sleep. I had never seen her sad before that day, before her eyes slipped closed and never reopened...I went to stay with a foster family of sorts who ignored me, and I was okay with that. I stayed in my room all the time, and the days were rare I was ever outside. It was like that when Balthazar showed up, my foster father kicked me out, and I ended up here." Castiel's head sagged heavily, and he found himself supporting it on Dean's shoulder.

"Your eyes haunted me for days after I first met you. I couldn't get them off my mind." Dean's voice was quiet, but Castiel could sense there was emotion intertwined with the words. He laughed softly.

"Same with me, Dean. Except even if the days were hectic, and I didn't think of them, your eyes stared at me in my dreams." Dean made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, and his arm snaked around Castiel's shoulders. He pulled them down to the bed and pushed them upwards towards the pillow. Within seconds, Dean heard Castiel snoring. He laughed in a hushed voice, and decided that he would stay here for the night. He really didn't want to leave Castiel. There was something about him, something that made it impossible for Dean to leave him alone. 

He stared at Castiel's sleeping face for a bit, taking in the man's relaxed expression and slack jaw, while also thinking of what Castiel had told him about his life. After a while, he found his eyes drooping, and he brought Castiel closer to him so he could feel the other man's warmth. He drifted off then, into a contented sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment! Any feedback is much appreciated! If you want to point out a mistake or anything, feel free to!


End file.
